


A New Strain

by ElleMartin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, Damsel in Distress, Established Relationship, F/M, HP: EWE, Halloween, Halloween Challenge, Halloween Costumes, Healer Draco Malfoy, Mentions of Violence, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-War, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Threats of Violence, Thriller, Vampires, epidemic, shit what did hermione do?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 09:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12528572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElleMartin/pseuds/ElleMartin
Summary: Hermione accepts an invitation to the annual Halloween party at Malfoy Manor, and even agrees to bring along her boyfriend Draco, who hasn't been on good terms with his parents for years. He reluctantly agrees to accompany her as he's convinced that his parents have ulterior motives for inviting them both. Will his suspicions be proven right when Hermione is one of several partygoers to fall ill, or is it all just due to the recent bouts of flu that's been making the rounds?Written for Strictly Dramione's A Very Dramione Halloween 2017. My prompt was "She moved her arms experimentally and felt the rope that held her wrists tighten. She looked around and spotted an empty coffin lying open in the corner.'Oh, you're awake, Granger,' a sultry voice spoke from behind her. 'Something wicked this way comes...'"





	A New Strain

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my alpha jencala who removed nearly every comma.  
> Thank you to my beta I_was_BOTWP for putting most of them back.

Hermione wasn’t one that ever made a big show over Halloween. As a child of two dentists spending an evening going around door to door to collect candy that her parents would never let her keep was utterly pointless and sucked all of the joy out of the holiday. Things were slightly better as a student at Hogwarts where they seemed to firmly believe in plying the children with as many sweets as they could handle. As an adult, Hermione had found that she much preferred spending her Halloween the same as she did any other evening: enjoying time with a good book while curled up in her favorite armchair with her porchlight turned off to fend off trick or treaters.

 

This year, she had decided she would have her friends over for a nice quiet dinner at her place. It would be good to do something different and she felt like she hadn’t seen Ron or Harry in such a long time. Life as grown-ups didn’t leave as much time for socializing as it used to. She’d sent out her owl with notes inviting them over to her place on Halloween.

 

Ron and his wife Eloise had opted to stay home with their newborn, Samuel. Eloise had become one of those mothers who refused any visitors around the baby for several weeks to reduce any risk of germs, which Hermione thought a bit overzealous, but she would respect her wishes all the same. It  _ was  _ flu season after all.

 

Harry was taking Ginny out to Godric’s Hollow. This year marked the twenty-fifth anniversary since his parents’ death, and he finally felt up to commemorating it in his own little way. Hermione had offered to go as support, but Harry had Ginny to hold his hand through these things now and so she’d said she understood. 

 

Then the invitation came. The Malfoy family was hosting their annual Hallowed Haunt which Hermione had learned was the premiere party for Wizarding Britain. She was sure her invite was only an attempt on the Malfoys’ part to show how accommodating they were to the new “regime” after the war by packing their ballroom with witches and wizards of all blood types. Not once did she consider that Narcissa and Lucius were actually extending a hand of welcome and friendship to their son Draco’s girlfriend of the past two years.They had not even included his name on the invitation, though there was a handwritten note on the bottom that Hermione suspected was from Narcissa telling her that she should feel free to bring a guest.

 

Her suspicions were confirmed when Draco informed her that while the Hallowed Haunt may be a real coup to get invited to, it was mostly a show of political lobbyists like his father rubbing elbows and greasing palms all evening. If they had invited her, there was definitely an alternative reason behind the gesture. 

 

“Will you at least be my plus one?” she asked him. “Help save me from all of the plotters and plodders?”

 

He grimaced. Draco’s relationship with his parents had been soured by all of their dealings in the war, his relationship with Hermione had been just further betrayal in their eyes. Hermione explained to him that she was determined to show Narcissa and Lucius that she and Draco were a team and she wasn’t going anywhere. He considered her words carefully. He didn’t trust his parents, and was convinced that they had only invited her to use her as a pawn in yet another of their schemes with the Ministry, but he did concede that they would be far less likely to try and manipulate her if he was there by her side. With a heavy sigh, he acquiesced to her request, but warned her to make back-up plans just in case he got called into work or something. He didn’t want her there on her own.

 

“How has work been lately?” she asked. As a healer at St Mungo’s, Draco always worked too much and too hard, especially now in this busy time of year. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that he’d been putting in more hours than normal and was even sporting dark circles under his eyes. He almost looked as worn down as he had during their Sixth year, a sure sign that he was stressed about something serious.

 

“Well, I didn’t want to worry you,” he began and Hermione did a little mental fist pump for being right. “There’s this weird strain of flu going around. We’ve only seen around eight cases so far, so it’s by no means an epidemic, but they have all appeared just in the last week.”

 

She leaned in, ever the concerned girlfriend. “What’s so weird about it?”

 

“The symptoms for one,” Draco said, running his hands through his hair. “The people are reporting headaches, nausea, dizziness, periods of blackouts…”

 

“Blackouts?” Hermione mused. “That doesn’t sound like flu.”

 

“That’s just it,” he said. Draco stood from the couch and began pacing the room. “I’m not quite convinced that it is. There’s no vomiting, no diarrhea, just heavy nausea. Each patient is anemic too. We’ve had to give blood replenishing potions to each one.”

 

“What are the common denominators? Do any of the patients know how they became infected?”

 

“None,” he said. “Only two of the patients even knew each other and they both fell sick at the same time while working late one night at the Ministry. In fact, the only common denominator is that they each fell sick at night.”

 

Hermione’s eyes widened. “At night?”

 

“I know what you’re thinking, because I thought it as well,” Draco said. “I’ve had the Aurors interrogate every known vampire and each alibi is airtight.”

 

“But what about-?”

 

“They all claim they haven’t turned anyone either,” Draco said shaking his head. “Plus, two of the patients mentioned that they thought they heard the soft pop of apparition just before falling ill. They came in in a group of three one night from Diagon Alley. Didn’t know each other nor had they visited any of the same shops.”

 

“Well, apparition would rule out vampires anyways,” Hermione said.

 

“How so?” Draco asked.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “First, there’s no apparition into the Ministry anymore, not even for executive levels. Second, vampires can’t apparate. They have no need since they can fly. Don’t you remember that from third year DADA?”

 

Draco grinned at her. “Have I told you how much I love that big old brain of yours?”

 

She laughed. “And here I was happy that a man finally liked me for my hot body instead of my brain.”

 

********

 

“Two more cases of that weird flu,” Draco told her while holding back a yawn. 

 

It was finally Halloween, and Hermione was already planning a nap before heading out to Malfoy Manor that evening. Unfortunately, poor Draco had gotten called in to the hospital just as he’d feared. 

 

“Luckily we’ve made some headway,” he continued as they sipped their coffees. “Blood replenishing potions and two days in the hospital seems to fix everyone right up.”

 

“That really does seem to point to a rogue vampire, doesn’t it?” Hermione said. “Should I pack some garlic and my sharpest wooden stake in my handbag tonight?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes, and grinned. “Just assure me that you’ve kept up with your hand washing and remembered to get a flu vaccine and you can leave the garlic at home. Oh, I’m taking my costume to the hospital with me just in case. I’ll probably have to meet you at the Manor.”

 

Hermione pursed her lips. “Are you sure? I can just wait for you here.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I asked Theo to keep an eye on you.”

 

With one last kiss, Hermione saw Draco out the door on his way to St Mungo’s and went to go prepare her costume.

 

********

 

“Tis but a scratch!” Theo squealed in a highly affected accent as Hermione keeled over with laughter. Theo’s newest boyfriend, Muggle-born Justin Finch-Fletchley, had recently introduced Theo to Monty Python, and Theo had opted to take full advantage of his amputated leg (an injury sustained in the Second Wizarding War) and dress up as the Black Knight for the Hallowed Haunt. He had even figured out how to make his stump spurt fake blood that evaporated before it landed. It was genius. Justin had dressed up as a black knight as well, only he was a chess piece instead of a bloody amputee.

 

Hermione was still waiting for her own knight to show up, sure that he would be slightly irritated that Justin and Theo were also knights. Draco had wanted to go as a black dragon (but a smoking hot one, he’d said) with black dragonhide trousers and waistcoat with a dragon mask. He thought that it would pair up nicely with Hermione’s shimmering white princess gown (she’d added so many floating sparkles that she practically glowed), but Hermione didn’t care for the visual that that would create.

 

“A dragon keeps the princess prisoner,” she’d told him. “I don’t want anyone inferring that you have me trapped in this relationship.”

 

“But the theme is Black and White,” Draco had argued. “An all black dragon outfit would be so cool!”

 

Honestly, it was like talking with a five-year-old. Hermione had finally talked him into coming to the ball as her white knight in shining armor, though he had nixed the armor, and changed his chain mail from dull silver to glowing white, and put the chain mail over a white tunic and breeches. He looked amazing, like some kind of angel in a picture book, minus the wings. At least, he’d looked amazing when he’d tried on the outfit at home. She’d yet to see him in it tonight.

 

Theo had been making good on his promise to Draco though, and was keeping close to Hermione all night, and for that she was grateful. The Grand Ballroom at Malfoy Manor was huge, yet it was packed to the rafters with a sea of costumed witches and wizards. It was a little overwhelming for Hermione and truth be told, she was developing a bit of a headache from the cloister of bodies. She cast her eyes around the room, briefly making eye contact with Narcissa in her stunning white peacock ensemble, and traded a demure smile with the older witch.

 

They had made polite conversation when Hermione first arrived. Narcissa had of course inquired whether Hermione had brought a guest with her in what Hermione took as a vague way of asking about Draco. Hermione had informed her that he’d been tied up by work, but should be arriving shortly.

 

“It is flu season after all,” Hermione had said.

 

“Ah, yes,” Narcissa had returned. “I should have him pop by to see my husband. He’s been feeling poorly as of late, and of course his stubbornness prevents him from admitting that he should see a healer. You probably won’t see him here tonight. I believe he’s holed up in his study.”

 

“Oh, of course, we wouldn’t want any more people falling ill,” Hermione had said with a smile, but Narcissa had already turned to greet another new arrival.

 

“Justin, what’s wrong?” Theo asked, bringing Hermione’s attention back to the present. Justin was swaying dangerously and looking suddenly pale.

 

“It’s this bloody costume,” Justin answered tersely. “It’s too hot in here, and I’m sweating bullets. It’s giving me an awful headache.”

 

“A headache, you say?” Hermione asked faintly. She thought about her own throbbing head, and Draco’s words reverberated through her mind.  _ Well, we can definitely rule out the vampires _ , she thought. She know she hadn’t been around any. It must be a weird flu epidemic after all. Her stomach roiled at the thought and she gulped down some more punch to try and cool down a little, scolding herself for being paranoid.

 

“You should pop out to the loo,” Theo was saying to Justin. “I can’t remember where the closest one is to the ballroom. This place is too much of a maze. Go ask Narcissa. She may have an elf that can show you.”

 

Justin nodded slowly, stumbling off in their hostess’ direction.

 

“Oh, I hope Draco shows up soon,” Hermione said, trying to ignore her pulsing temples. “Maybe he can take a look at Justin.”  _ And me _ , she thought. “There’s this flu going around, you see.”

 

“A flu?” Theo’s eyebrows raised. “But that’s a Muggle disease. We’re normally immune to that stuff.”

 

“Not necessarily,” she said. “Remember that time in our Second year? There was a rash of colds that broke out around Hogwarts. Poor Madame Pomfrey could barely keep up.”

 

“So Justin just needs some Pepper-Up, then?”

 

Hermione shook her head. “No, Draco says this is some new strain. It almost acts like anemia. They’ve been treating it with Blood Replenishing Potion and rest.”

 

Hermione scowled as Justin was led out of the ballroom by a diminutive house-elf in a tea towel. Some things never changed. 

 

“Maybe you should go with him,” she told Theo. “He may need help.”

 

“Nah, he’ll be fine,” Theo said. “I recognize that elf. She’s been around a long time. She’ll fix Justin right up. Besides, I promised Draco that I’d stick by you until he got here. Let’s dance to take our minds off the waiting.”

 

Hermione knew that she was in no condition to dance, yet she let Theo lead her out to the somehow even more crowded dance floor. After a couple of numbers, her head was pounding worse than before causing her to sway in a way that had nothing to do with her dancing. Draco still had yet to show himself, and Justin had not reappeared yet either. 

 

“Hermione?” Theo said, concerned. “You don’t look so well.”

 

“I don’t feel so well,” she said, chugging down another glass of punch. “Why don’t you go and find Justin? I think I need to go home.”

 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Surely Narcissa has something for you. Plus, Draco should be here any minute.”

 

“If he shows up just tell him that I went home,” Hermione said, squinting her eyes against the glare from the lights. “I’ll go tell Narcissa the same.”

 

They went their separate ways; Theo to the exits, Hermione towards their hostess. She had to clear her throat three times before Narcissa even turned to look at her. 

 

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” Hermione began. “But I need to be going now.”

 

“Oh, but Draco hasn’t arrived yet, has he?” Narcissa cast her eyes around the ballroom hopefully. 

 

“No ma’am, he hasn’t,” Hermione said. “If you see him, will you tell him that I’ve gone home?”

 

“Miss Granger, are you alright?” Narcissa asked. “You look unwell.”

 

Hermione gave her a tense smile. “Truthfully, I have a horrendous headache. I’m sure that I’ll feel better once I get some rest.”

 

“Oh, well, let me help you! Tennel!” she cried, and the house-elf that Hermione had seen earlier popped softly into view. “Please fetch Miss Granger a headache potion and lead her to a bedroom to rest. One of the East Wing suites should do.”

 

Tennel bowed slightly, and reached out for Hermione’s hand. “This way, Miss.”

 

“Narcissa, really, I’d much rather just go home.”

 

“Nonsense!” Narcissa said. “Besides, Draco shall be here soon. I will send him right up to check on you.”

 

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and let the elf lead her away. She knew exactly what Narcissa was up to. She couldn’t give two figs about Hermione’s well-being. She just wanted time with Draco and she knew that if he showed up to find Hermione gone he’d leave immediately to check on her. Fine. She’d play it Narcissa’s way just this once. As soon as they had exited the ballroom Tennel stopped.

 

“Wait here,” she told Hermione sternly in her squeaky voice, then popped out of sight. She reappeared seconds later bearing a small potion bottle, handing it over to Hermione.

 

“What’s this?” Hermione asked, eyeing the viscous blue liquid. “This doesn’t look like regular headache potion.”

 

“It’s Tennel’s recipe,” she replied. “Drink.” Hermione shrugged and downed the sour contents in one gulp. “Follow me.”

 

The potion worked fast, but not in a way that Hermione expected. Her head was swimming, and her vision had gone blurry. She blindly held the elf’s hand and didn’t even notice when they went down a set of stairs instead of up the main staircase. She didn’t  register the musty air of the dungeons as Tennel led her further into its depths. All she knew was that the potion had made her incredibly sleepy and in her altered state thought that there must have been a sleep aid added to the recipe. The only thing on her mind was the thought of the plush bed she was sure she’d be collapsing into soon when Tennel stopped.

 

“I’ve brought you one more, Master,” Tennel squeaked. “And it’s the one you wanted most.”

 

Clarity came rushing back to Hermione all too late. “You! You drugged me!” she slurred, but her words were completely incomprehensible as she fell into unconsciousness and into the Master’s waiting arms.

 

********

 

Back in the ballroom, Hermione’s white knight had finally shown up. Draco knew that it was rude not to go straight over to his mother to say hello, especially as it had been quite some time since they’d last spoken, but he wanted to find Hermione first. He’d had a bad feeling about this party ever since her invitation had flown through the window; she wasn’t used to these types of events. He needed to make sure that she was okay. 

 

The knot in his gut grew exponentially when after four sweeps of the ballroom he couldn’t see her bushy head of hair. He didn’t even see Theo though it was hard to tell with everyone in costume. With a deep breath he headed over to his mother.

 

“Oh Draco, you’re finally here!” Narcissa cried, and it looked as though a few tears sprang to her eyes. “And my, don’t you look darling! What are you?”

 

“I’m a white knight.” Draco said through clenched teeth. “Mother, have you seen Hermione?”

 

“This reminds me of when you used to play dress up as a boy!” Narcissa ignored Draco’s query, spinning him around to admire his ensemble despite his irritation. “You loved to be the dashing knight back then too. Gladys! Gladys, come here and see how adorable Draco looks in his costume!”

 

“I’m not adorable,” he glowered. “I am a heroic knight. There’s nothing adorable about a knight! Mother, where is Hermione?”

 

“Oh, she fell ill,” Narcissa said dismissively. “I sent her off with that elf to go lie down.”

 

“What? She’s ill?” Draco demanded. “Which elf did you send her off with?”

 

Narcissa wasn’t listening, as she was too busy gushing with her friend Gladys Gudgeon over Draco’s costume. He had to repeat his question twice more before she finally answered. “Oh, you know the one who took her name from the spice rack, but she read the label wrong?”

 

“Tennel?” Draco asked impatiently. The elf popped into view, glaring at Draco. “Tennel! Mother said you took Hermione to lie down! Where did you take her? I’d like to check in on her.” Tennel stayed silent. “Tennel, tell me where you took my girlfriend! It’s an order from your master!”

 

“Tennel takes no orders from bad master,” the elf spat. “Real master says so. He says bad master is no longer master, and Tennel takes no orders from bad masters!”

 

With that Tennel popped out of sight. 

 

********

 

She woke to find herself tied to a table in the Malfoy dungeon. Her dress still seemed to be in tact, but for how long was anyone’s guess. Her bag with her wand was nowhere to be found. Hermione moved her arms experimentally and felt the rope that held her wrists tighten. She looked around and spotted an empty coffin lying open in the corner.   
  
"Ah, you're awake, Miss Granger," a sultry voice spoke from behind her. "Something wicked this way comes..."

 

“Lucius,” she hissed as the Malfoy patriarch came into view. “What have you done to me?”

 

He chuckled. “I have done nothing. You drank the potion of your own volition. Therefore, you did this to yourself.”

 

“But the headaches? The dizziness?” Hermione struggled against her bonds futilely, searching desperately for a way away from the blonde man with the glinting teeth sizing her up as his next meal.

 

“Just another potion consumed willingly,” he told her. “My loyal elf spiked only a few of the cups, though she may have helped guide the right ones to your hands. I don’t know exactly how house-elf magic works.”

 

“The Ministry workers,” Hermione breathed. “The shoppers from Diagon Alley. Tennel was the one apparating to them.”

 

“Merely practice for tonight,” he said dismissively.

 

“You’re the rogue vampire!” Hermione accused. “You’ve been having poor Tennel bring you victims!”

 

“‘Poor Tennel’ as you call her is my most loyal elf,” Lucius stated proudly. “She will do anything to aid her master. Now, I grow weary of your talking. I’ve already waited long enough, only so I could see the life leave your eyes while I feast.”

 

********

 

“Mother, Tennel won’t tell me where she took Hermione!” Draco pleaded. “She says that Father told her not to take orders from me, that I’m no longer her master!”

 

“Oh, Draco,” Narcissa said sweetly. “I’m sure she didn't mean that. Tennel knows that your father has been unwell lately. She must have misunderstood him.”

 

Draco couldn’t explain how, but something clicked into place in his mind. “Mother, just where  _ is _ Father this evening?”

 

Narcissa worried her lip as if trying to make a decision. “I think he may have gone down to the wine cellar.”

 

“We don’t have a wine cellar, Mother,” Draco said impatiently. 

 

“We added one to the dungeons last year,” she said and Draco took off running.

 

********

 

Hermione tried another stall tactic to keep Lucius talking. “You don’t want me, surely! My blood is dirty and inferior!”

 

“Oh, Miss Granger, your stall tactics are cute, but I’ll bite,” Lucius said with a smirk at his little joke. “It’s true that there was a time before my awakening when such a thing as blood status may have caused me to shy away from you, but now…” He inhaled deeply. “Now  _ all _ of the blood sings to me. It does not matter from whence it came. It all quenches my thirst. Even the dirtiest of Mudblood tastes just as delicious as the pure-blooded.” 

 

He spread his arms wide, gesturing around the room, and for the first time Hermione could see the bodies piled haphazardly in the corner. Bile rose in her throat as she recognized Justin and Theo’s faces on the nearest pile. Sweet Circe, she had unknowingly sent them to their deaths. She didn’t know if she would live long enough to ever forgive herself. 

 

“Now, If you’re done stalling, it’s time,” Lucius said. In her distraction he had moved right next to her, practically draping himself across her frame. His breath tickled at her throat. 

 

“Draco…” she whispered with what was possibly her last breath.

 

“I’ll be sure to send him your love when I leave your corpse on his doorstep, rotted like the filth that you are.” And his fangs pierced her skin.

 

“ _ Stupefy _ !”

 

She was dying, Hermione thought. There was no other way to explain the sound of her lover’s voice at just the right moment in time. Lucius was jerked away as Draco’s well-aimed spell hit him, tearing a piece of Hermione’s throat as he flew backwards.

 

“ _ Incarcerous _ !” Draco yelled and ropes flew from his wand to wrap around his father’s feebly stirring body.

 

“Draco,” she croaked. “Draco- your father- he’s a vampire.”

 

“I know, Hermione,” Draco said with annoyance lacing his voice. “I saw what he was doing. Oh Merlin, I need to get something to stem the blood flow on your neck.” She heard the sound of ripping fabric as her white knight finally came into her view. “He didn’t infect you, did he? Did you drink from him?” She shook her head urgently.

 

“Draco,  _ no _ ,” Hermione pleaded. “He’s a  _ vampire _ ! Those ropes won’t hold him!”

 

Her words were cut off as a flash of blonde tackled Draco away from her and his wand clattered across the dungeon floor. She could hear the tussling bodies of the two men somewhere away from her line of sight. Hermione struggled to free herself once more, but she’d lost too much blood already. Silently, she tried to summon Draco’s wand, or any wand really, to her feeble hands, but her magic wouldn’t cooperate in her weakened state. Suddenly, an unholy shriek rent the air and Draco appeared by her side once more. There was blood on his shirt that Hermione prayed wasn’t his.

 

“What? How?” she asked in a tired voice as he began loosening the ropes that held her prisoner.

 

“My chainmail,” Draco choked out. “It was real silver under the white, remember? Nothing but the best for a Malfoy. It burnt him; that was the scream. Then I summoned my wand, and well… I used it as a stake.”

 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “No,” she whispered. “You… you killed your father?”

 

“That monster was no longer my father,” Draco said firmly. “I did what I had to do to save you.”

 

Hermione bit back a sob. “Oh, Draco.”

 

He shook his head. “Let’s not dwell on it, please.”

 

Draco picked up the torn piece of fabric where it had fallen on the table next to her and quickly fastened it around her neck to staunch the flow of blood. 

 

“We’ll need to get the blood replenishing potion into you soon,” he said.

 

“I’m pretty sure we have some at home,” she replied as he eased her down off of the table where either Lucius or Tennel had tied her up.

 

He led her from the dungeons, only pausing briefly to look one last time at the bodies of what were once his father and their friends. Hermione could see the end of Draco’s wand sticking out of Lucius’ chest, and quickly averted her eyes.

 

“I just can’t believe this happened,” Hermione said.

 

“Nor can I,” Draco agreed with a small shake of his head, steering her once more to the stairs back to the main floor. Just before they ascended the steps there was one last body to step over.

 

“Tennel?” Hermione questioned.

 

“I did what I had to.” Draco repeated quietly.

 

At the top of the stairs Hermione could hear the raucous laughter and jumbled voices spilling out from the ballroom.

 

“It’s hard to think the party still raged on through all of that,” she mused. She turned to face Draco, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from walking further on. 

 

“Do you think your mother knew what he had become?” Hermione asked as she gazed down the hall toward the noise.

 

“I’m… I’m not sure,” Draco admitted. “I can’t see how she wouldn’t know, but to think that she still threw the party, that she packed the Manor full of victims… that’s something I can’t wrap my head around.”

 

“We’ll need to alert the Aurors,” Hermione said. “Before anyone has a chance to clean up.”

 

“You’re right,” Draco nodded. “Can you send a patronus?”

 

Hermione shook her head. “I had my bag with me when I went down there with Tennel. At least, I think I did. I don’t know where it is now, and truthfully I’d rather not have to go back down there to find it.”

 

“Understandable,” Draco said. “We’ll send an owl as soon as we get home, and just pray that no one goes down there before the Aurors get the message. Hopefully they can find your wand, but if not we’ll just get you a new one.”

 

“What about yours?” She was sure that he wouldn’t still want his wand after using it as the weapon to kill his father, but it was best to make sure. 

 

He vehemently shook his head. “I’d prefer to have a new one now.”

 

“I just…” Hermione paused as tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m probably still in a bit of shock, okay, but I need to say this.”

 

He looked at her questioningly.

 

“Thank you,” she finally said. “I know you said you did what you had to do, but that can’t have been easy. I mean, that was your father-”

 

Draco held up his hand. “Please, Hermione, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

 

“Still.” She pulled him into a fierce hug, not caring about all of the blood on either of their bodies as she breathed in his scent. “Thank you. You really are my knight in shining armor.”

 

They stood there embracing in the hall for what seemed to be several minutes before Draco kissed her forehead. Pulling back he said, “I rescued the princess. Now let’s get you home. We’ll deal with the rest once the sun comes up.”


End file.
